Turning A Blind Eye
by Cho Koume
Summary: A deeper look into the soul of Dais, the dark warlord of illusions. Is he really as he seems, or is there a deeper picture?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Yoroiden Samurai Troopers, or the warlords, AKA masho. The scenes in this fic are a 'could have happened' type of thing. I expect it will be short. Maybe painfully so, and I will only continue it if it turns out to be something people like.

Turning A Blind Eye

" _Sometimes, you see the world most clearly when your sight has been taken from you. It all come into focus… but even though you know there is a door leading out of the darkness, you are still blind, and are unable to find it. "_

_--_

Tapla's power was growing, but before it had reached the peak of supremacy, something unthinkable happened. He was defeated. His arrogance and desire for power clouded his mind, and eventually led to his defeat. Just before the final blow was struck, he used the rest of his energy to remove himself from the battlefield. Returning to the netherworld, he was left with hardly any strength. He could hardly retain a physical form.

Knowing he was not yet out of the woods, he began to think of how he could survive long enough to regain his former strength, and more. He would need the white armor of Hariel if he expected to reshape the worlds in his own image. But it would take a great while to regain his energy, and there was very little he could do until he was recovered. He needed an anchor, a steady energy source. At the same time, he needed loyal followers that could defend him as he recovered.

As he thought and thought, Talpa soon smiled. He had a plan of how to solve both problems. In time, he laid his body temporarily to rest, and sought out the cruel hearts of humans in the lower world with his spirit. Only the negativity of humans was strong enough to sustain him, and it was something that would never deplete itself. In his search for his sources, he came across four unusually strong men. They were strong, healthy, and they wanted power. He knew then that they would make the most perfect pawns.

One by one, he approached them, promising them power beyond what any normal human could ever hope to attain, and one by one, they flocked to him, willingly surrendering their humanity for nameless, unbelievable power. Thus were born the four warlords of the dynasty.

However, as some time passed, Talpa noticed something. The warrior Dais, warlord of illusion seemed to be thinking. Something wasn't right. Dais, as a human, was always very bright. He never had the need to fool his enemies with cheap tricks in order to get what he wanted, and as time went on, he began to distance himself from the others. He seemed to have figured out what his decision had truly meant, and that, Talpa could not allow. If he was to build his empire, he needed mindless soldiers who would follow him to hell, not those who were likely to discover his trickery and betray him.

Still, there was no way to tell exactly how much Dais knew, and that was troubling. Dais would need to be dealt with, and disciplined, and Talpa knew just the right ways to do this.


	2. Chapter 2

Dais was well-known in the dynasty as the one with the piercing, icy eyes. They were thin-slit, and with one stare, he could strike fear even into the other warlords. His eyes… that was what Dais liked most about himself. He would often be caught staring into the mirror, marveling at his own cruel and rough appearance. His hair was naturally wavy, but he made sure top keep it out of his face. If his hair blocked even one part of his pace, covering an eye, his scare-tactics would not be quite as effective.

He was truly an evil mastermind. Along with those deadly looks of his, he had a mind that could out-wit the best of them. Though he was awed by the power of his inhuman armor, with time, he began to wonder what he was doing where he was. Why was he serving another, let alone a weakling whom he could have beaten, in his own mind. He would sit alone, far from the others and contemplate this. Why did he choose to leave his position as a ruler of a unit of warriors, who served only him, to become a slave to another? Was that what he really wanted?

On one of those days, he was sitting in the courtyard, but he wasn't alone. Along with his armor, he was given power over insects, and at the time, he was toying with one of his pet spiders. _Stupid thing_, he thought. _Such a weak, small and pathetic creature you are. You think you're tough, but you have yet to prove it. With one of my pinkies, I could crush you, and that would be that. I am almost ashamed to be associated with the likes of you! I am not so weak and helpless!_

Though he made silent threats, he could not bring himself to kill the spider. He was linked to them, and thus, there was an invisible bond, like a tether, keeping him from doing anything. He told himself it just wasn't worth cleaning up the mess, but only because he didn't know the reason, and wanted to think he was in control of everything. It was rather suddenly when his master, Talpa summoned him. He was reluctant to face a master he did not completely accept, like his other, mindless pawns of companions, but, nevertheless, he rose from his seat and promptly strode to his master's quarters.

When he reached a darkened room, he stopped. Strange of Talpa to summon him to another place, besides the main chamber, and for no one to be there when he arrived, also. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was mistaken, and turned to leave, only to see the door shut itself. He must have been in the right place. So, for a moment, he waited, and walked around. Talpa watched.

Dais was easily bored, and the regular, old, rusted armors and weapons in the room could not hold his interest. He thought of leaving. It was not customary to summon someone and make them wait, and if he was not there when Talpa, himself, arrived, then it was not his fault. He turned to leave, but on his way out, he spotted a cauldron, and several scrolls. Some were placed carelessly across a table, and, being the neat type as he was, this irritated him. He moved to put them away, no matter who was using them, but instead, he froze.

On the scroll, there were several pictures of armors like his. The text was old, and the language long forgotten or abandoned, but the drawings were almost clear as day. They were color-coordinated, which Dais found tacky, but then, as he looked lower, a unique white armor came into view. Dais suddenly felt weak. He could almost feel the power of the armor, even just by looking down at the paper. He saw it moving in his mind, swinging great, long swords. The name inferno rang in his ears, and he thought he felt his soul burning in its flames.

Dais could not handle the intensity of the sight of it, and immediately dropped the scroll. It landed on the floor and rolled, and was picked up by another. Dais was out of breath, leaning against the table with a hand clutching his chest. His heart felt as if was being burned, and torn to shreds all at the same time, and words and images flowed through his mind. Ronin Warriors, battle, death, armor, Hariel. He could not stop them. Companion, master, sacrifice, puppet.

Time stopped for a moment as his thoughts lingered on that last word. Who was a puppet, and who was the puppeteer. He was so lost in thought, he hadn't heard Talpa coming up behind him with the abandoned scroll. He jumped nearly two feet and turned on his heel as his master spoke.

"So, Dais… I see you have discovered the inferno. Well done…"

"M-master…"

"Not many can fathom the power and intensity of an armor such as this. But obviously, I was right in choosing you to serve me."

Talpa rose the scroll up, and Dais looked away, not wanting to feel the intensity of the armor again. Talpa waited a moment like that before throwing the scroll back onto the table.

Dais had never before seen Talpa in a solid form, so he took a moment to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of his eye. He was a tall being, and bold in his physique. His hair was long and white, but there was something that told Dais the man was not physically strong at the time. Putting two and two together, he came up with the conclusion that Talpa came to them in spirit because he could not maintain himself in a physical form for too long. He frowned. He was serving a weak master. Maybe the images and words in his mind really depicted truth. Was he a pawn? Why did Talpa call upon the help of men to serve him? Why choose them? Talpa made a noise deep in his throat, and Dais lowered his suspecting gaze.

"I can see you are curious, Dais… do tell me what is on you mind."

"…A lot of things. Why you chose us."

"All I did was seek you out. you four made the choices yourselves."

"But why seek out humans? Surely there are greater beings and creatures here in your own realm!"

"Simple Dais. In all my existence, I have yet to find a creature more unpredictable and arrogant and determined at a human being. You're as strong as you're ordered to be, and so easy to please and control…"

"What?"

"You're such simple creatures with hardly a mind your own. You look you entire lives to find someone stronger than you that you could serve. You know this of your species."

"You lie!"

"Aside from that, human energy is most satisfying. Plentiful and ripe for the picking."

"No! I do not need to be ruled over! I live for myself!"

Suddenly, dark energy flashed all around Dais, and he cried out in pain. Talpa was throwing only a small portion of his newly-attained energy at his servant, and yet, he crumbled to the floor so quickly.

"Your life belongs to ME now! I control what you do, and whether you live or die!"

"S-stop…! Master Talpa! Let me go!"

"No… not yet. You have much to learn about your position here."

The dark energy disappeared, and Dais fell to the cold stone floor, half-conscious. The last thing he could remember was the word he had seen. His mind lingered on it. Puppet. Puppet. Puppet……


	3. Chapter 3

The crack of the whip was what brought Dais back into full alertness. Or maybe it was the sound of his bare flesh tearing as the leather strip made contact. This torture session had started over two hours before, but Dais chose to remain numb to it until his wrists were bound to the wall, and the first crack sounded. His shirt was torn to shreds, barely managing to remain on his toned torso. Faintly, through the pain, he tried to shift away into the wall to avoid the blows, but it didn't work. It only hurt more.

Talpa watched as his pawn was whipped mercilessly, again, and again, and again, without a single sympathetic expression. His eyes traced the long slash marks, which would most definitely become gruesome scars. He traced the marks, almost nodding his head in approval as the pattern started to resemble spider webs. Even if Dais ever managed to escape him and leave, those scars would serve as a permanent reminder of how small and powerless he was without his master.

The whip cracked again, and Dais bit his lip to keep from screaming out. Any normal human would have broken down into sobs long before then, and Dais was sure as hell no normal, weak human. To keep his mind off the pain, he tried to focus on counting. How many cuts he had on his back, how many seconds passed before the next blow could be delivered. Thinking about that seemed to bring him calm, and soon, he made himself numb to the pain. His fists were clenched, dirty from digging his nails into the dark, filthy wall. This was about as much as he could take.

In a blind fury, Dais broke the worn binds that held him and lashed out at his attacker. The sight of him, bleeding all over the floor, eyes ablaze with rage and fending off a netherworld creature fascinated Talpa. He had been beaten and broken and bruised, and still he had such strength to him. That, he thought, was what made humans such good soldiers. Defiance to the very end… now, if only he could keep that emotion strong in Dais, and still have his loyalty…

After drawing off his attacker, fell to the floor onto his knees. He wasn't sure where that burst of energy had come from, but whatever its origins, it was gone, anyway. He was a strong man, and did well not to show the immense pain he was in, but he knew he wouldn't be able to move if he tried. He was near unconsciousness when he heard the loud echo of clapping.

"Good… VERY good, Dais… I knew you had much potential. One of my strongest warlords!"

Dais rose his eyes, as his head felt far too heavy to move, and glared at Talpa. His 'master' had watched him being tortured, and yet he was commenting on his strength of will. The will of humans could not be broken or deterred. Or at least, that's what he had believed his whole life. Could he be wrong?

Talpa looked down at the bleeding creature chuckling. He was beaten and thin, but his eyes were still wild and full of strength- the same strength Talpa wished to contain. Hie eyes, no doubt, were the most defiant part of him. That's where Talpa got his idea. But, in order for it to work, he would have to get Dais riled up enough to display that rage once more.

"Dais… you must be tired." Talpa circled. "You have not slept for days, nor have you eaten. Kept in total isolation and darkness…. But such is the nature of your soul. You do not need anyone else. Do you detest the others? Why do you reject them?"

"Because… they relinquish their souls and lives to YOU."

"Oh?"

"They are weak… they allowed themselves to be tricked into this so very easily, and now, they have no minds of their own. What little warriors instincts they had before have been stolen."  
"But have you forgotten, Dais, that, too, are a servant of mine?"

"I am a warrior for only myself! I signed on to wield power, not to become a slave to a monster with NO power at all!" Dais spat at Talpa, but the sorcerer was not phased. In fact, he was pleased, smiling beneath his mask.

"Dais, you tread on thin waters… To speak so coldly of your master…"

"Disgusting! You are no master of mine!"

That's when Dais rose again, intending to punch the demon in the face, but he never got that far. When he reached out his hand, Talpa's eyes glowed a dark red and shocks of his dark energy, once again, held him in place. Though, this time, Dais did not yell out. He was in excruciating pain, that much was clear, but more than that, he was furious.

"Dais, you think your life if your own, but you signed over your life and soul to me."

"No! I will never submit!"

"Oh, you will…"

It was then that Talpa extended his hand, pointed towards Dais' face and the dark energy concentrated there. In one painfully slow pull, Dais' eye came out of the socket in a bloody mess. Dais finally yelled. He could feel the emptiness of the socket, and how the dark energy was invading him through that spot. The darkness flashed and then the single room was as cold and quiet and dark as it had been when he first arrived. Talpa held the eye in his hand, still shining defiantly as though it was still connected to its owner. But… Talpa WAS its owner now. Dais was kneeling on the floor with an arm over his chest, bowing his head.

"Dais, in this eye is your defiance and treachery. Now it is mine. You are a dark warlord forever, and you will serve me with nothing but loyalty. You shall not defy me again."

"No, master Talpa. Never."

Dais, raising his head, revealed that a patch had automatically appeared to cover the hole in his face. It was magic, making it so that Dais could not remove it and put his eye back, and that when he and/or the others were zapped by their master, he felt pain there the most. He didn't know it at the time, but Talpa took his eye in that one moment alone in order to preserve the fury in a controlled way. It was brilliant, and yet, so unfortunate for Dais, the dark warlord of illusion.

Control of himself… the knowledge of such control… WAS the illusion.


End file.
